


Defense mechanism

by minghaon



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jisoo is only in the beginning by the way, M/M, Mental Health Issues, don't read this if you can't do sad things, don't worry about that lol, i almost cried when writing this, it's just an emotional mess all in all, so it's not one of those love triangle fics, this is really just sad guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 15:13:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10993500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minghaon/pseuds/minghaon
Summary: Seungcheol is not gone. Seungcheol is going to come back, and Jeonghan is going to wait for him.





	Defense mechanism

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this based on SEVENTEEN's 'Don't Wanna Cry' lyrics
> 
> Beta-reading is overrated for someone as lazy as me
> 
> By the way please comment if you liked this yo. Comments make my days brighter

”Why won’t you just meet him? I told him about you and-“

That’s about how much Jeonghan hears of this day’s attempt of getting him to go out with someone. His brain has learned to filter out whatever his friend says, whenever there’s a ‘meet’ and ‘him’ in the same sentence coming from his mouth. By now he doesn’t even think about it, it just happens naturally. It’s like he’s developed a new reflex or something. His psychiatrist called it a defense mechanism. Apparently his brain is trying to protect him from getting hurt again or something like that. Jeonghan’s not really sure he’s ever really gotten hurt though.

“No thanks, Jisoo,” he says, when it seems like the flood of words from his friend’s mouth has stopped. “I’m out right now. Isn’t that enough?”

To make his point more valid, he nods towards the drink hot drink on the table in front of him, as well as all the people in the small café. That’s not what he meant, and both of them know that very well. It’s just that Jisoo always does this, and Jeonghan always does this too. It’s been a routine that’s become a part of each and every one of their Tuesdays, and at this point Jeonghan is not actually sure whether the slightly younger boy suggests a date for him just because it would feel weird not doing it, or because he actually means what he says. Knowing Jisoo it’s probably the latter, but knowing Jeonghan he’ll stick to the first one.

“It’s been 8 months, Jeonghan,” Jisoo tells him in a soft voice.

It baffles Jeonghan, because they don’t normally go there. The conversation doesn’t normally get to this point, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. It’s not what he’s gotten used to over the past 8 months. It’s not a part of their daily routine, and that had been the only reason why he had agreed to give an hour of all of his Tuesdays to Jisoo. It was supposed to be a great, comfortable time for Jeonghan to get his mind of off things. They don’t talk about _that_. They don’t talk about _him_. That’s what his psychiatrist is for. But now his friend mentioned it too, and that’s not what he’s supposed to do.

The words ring in his head _“It’s been 8 months, Jeonghan”._

When he replies his voice is quiet – almost a whisper; “He might come back.”

The hot drink on the table is almost full, when he leaves the café. Jisoo might ask him to stay. Jisoo might yell his name, but even if he does, Jeonghan doesn’t hear it. The feeling of betrayal is too much in his stomach, and there’s a feeling of anger surrounding him.

He might come back. He’s going to come back. He’s not gone. Seungcheol is not gone.

\--

The most safe and comfortable place for him is his room. There are still signs of Seungcheol everywhere. Some of his shirts are still there, one of them dragged over Jeonghan’s chair like always – he always put it there, whenever he came over, and that day he forgot to take it with him when he left.

His room is where he uses most of his time. Ever since he stopped going to school, he’s been a regular in his bed even in the day time. He likes it there. The pillow still smells like Seungcheol. Whenever he lays there it’s like he can feel the arms he misses so much around his stomach.

Jeonghan likes his room and his bed. It’s like they’re the only ones who doesn’t want him to forget. They’re the only ones believing that his not gone. That Seungcheol is going to get back.

\--

Jeonghan doesn’t like to be here. It’s cold. It’s unfamiliar. It’s neither his room nor his bed. He absolutely dreads going here, but everyone tells him it’s for the best. The money his parents spend on these sessions isn’t money he wants to go to waste, so he goes. If it makes his parents more at ease and not as worried, then that’s for the best too.

The psychiatrist is sitting in front of him, and somehow she’s gotten him to indulge in a conversation. How she does it, he really doesn’t know. Yet every time he’s there, she gets him to talk. He had wondered how for 8 months now, and the only conclusion he’s come to is that it’s a psychiatrist thing.

“Why do you think he left?” she asks him, glancing down at the words she wrote down from the session last week.

That’s another thing she always does. The way she speaks to him, and the way she asks questions makes it seem like she believes him. That she believes that Seungcheol is going to come back too. It’s a way to make him talk – and he knows it – but it always sparks his interest. It makes him feel like he’s not alone in his believes, even though she doesn’t actually believe it for real.

“I told him I loved him,” Jeonghan tells her.

What happened after the words had left his lips is still fresh in his mind. Every second of it is stored in his memory, and once in a while when the seconds are brought back, it hurts him more than anything. When he had put his feelings into words in front of Seungcheol, he had had an idea of how things were supposed to be. Seungcheol was supposed to smile – maybe even laugh – and tell him that he loved him back. Jeonghan never heard those words. The older male hadn’t smiled. He’d just stared at him, before eventually letting go of his hand and walking away.

That had been the last time he’d seen him.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” the psychiatrist asks gently.

Jeonghan shakes his head, before meeting her gaze with a stern one himself. “Not when he didn’t like me anymore.”

\--

For once he doesn’t take the bus. Instead he walks that way home. He’s been here a lot of times. They walked here together all the time. It’s such a familiar path for him to take, yet now it feels unfamiliar to him. It feels strange and foreign to walk by alone – to not have his hand in his own.

Everything on this path is filled with the memories of them together. When he reaches that one bench, he sits down on it. It’s placed on a bridge, with the backrest turned towards the road and the front towards the water. The bench means a lot to him.

This is where he and Seungcheol had held hands for the first time. This is where he and Seungcheol had kissed for the first time. This is where he and Seungcheol had a lot of firsts and deep conversations. For Seungcheol he had a last here as well.

The police had told him about it. This was where they had found Seungcheol’s shoes with his phone placed on top of them. This was where they had said that he had ended it.

Of course Jeonghan doesn’t believe them. Seungcheol hadn’t ended anything. Of course he hadn’t. He couldn’t have.

How would Jeonghan be able to live if Seungcheol was gone? How could he live, when one half of him was gone? That’s when he decided that he couldn’t be gone. If he was gone, then he himself would be gone as well.

That’s when Jeonghan started to wait. He had waited for Seungcheol to come back ever since.

Sometimes his eyes begins tear up and his view becomes blurry, but then he remembers that he has no reason to cry. There’s nothing for him to cry about.

Seungcheol is not gone. Seungcheol is going to come back, and Jeonghan is going to wait for him.

“He might come back,” he whispers to himself. He might come back, and Jeonghan is going to be there for him, when he does.

He’s going to wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter and tumblr both @minghaon


End file.
